He meant nothing to me –

Except he was your father

Who turned you away

For being gay.

You did all you could

And I know you would;

Because that’s who you are.

Suffering teaches you

The value of death.

Seeing you do,

What needs to be done,

Breaking a pot,

Taking turns around the fire,

Lifting the water

And the clarified butter,

Like the body of your father,

Like I had done a few years ago,

Made me weep.

Abscesses linger

Of abandonment.

Wounds that have cut too deep

Don’t allow the momentum

Of life to fall back into joy.

You will leave by morning,

For duty, a calling

And a new suffering,

Time has chosen to employ.